


B2MEM 2014 - Summer in Tâduin

by KayleeArafinwiel



Series: B2MEM 2014 - Aragorn in the North [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: Gen, Teachers & Students, Uncles & Nephews
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:09:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1257436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/KayleeArafinwiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer in the Arnorian village of Tâduin is an interesting time for young Aragorn II, still learning the ins and outs of being Chieftain, and dealing with the new and interesting difficulties the summer months bring to Arnor.</p><p>(The B2MEM 2014 part of Summer in Tâduin is now complete; however, it is entirely likely I will be adding snippets in the future, so check back often!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. B2MEM 2014 March 3 - A Berry Big Problem

**Author's Note:**

> Begun for B2MEM 2014, so "Summer", having followed "Four Seasons", will be followed by "Autumn", "Ides of March", "Winter", "Spring", and a couple of random prompts. "Spring" will of necessity take place before "Summer" chronologically, even though it'll be nearly the last part written. I will move chapters around to fit them in better chronologically. The B2MEM prompts will be marked with their date to show when they were written.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aragorn joins the little cousins on their berrying venture – then things begin to get sticky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For B2MEM 2014 “summer” prompt – It’s time for the summer fruits and berries: strawberries and blackberries are abundant, and in some places the trees droop with peaches and plums. The tomatoes and cucumbers are ripe on the vine. Create a story or a work of art featuring a summer seasonal food. Bonus for including a recipe.

Aragorn often felt betwixt and between, that first year – he spent much of his time in work expected of the younger children, but he was also allowed to hunt with the men, when his Daeradar, Lord Dirhael, permitted it. One task that he didn’t particularly mind was berrying – he didn’t mind going with his younger cousins to fill his baskets. The shores of the Tithenduin were thick with berry brambles, and at this time of summer, blackberries grew in abundance.

The young Chieftain carried a basket on his back, held by a strap that crossed his forehead. The children held smaller baskets in their hands, and as they filled their own baskets, they came to pour the contents into Aragorn’s large one. The little girls rushed to and fro, picking busily, while their brothers caught fish to bring home.

“Aragorn?” As a small brown hand slipped into his own, Aragorn looked down at five-year-old Gilwen, who was a more distant cousin – her grandfather had been Arador’s younger brother.

“Yes, Gilwen?” he replied, smiling at the little girl as she emptied her basket into his.

“I like you, Aragorn,” Gilwen said, and Aragorn found himself smiling at the simple statement.

“I like you too, Gilwen. You are very good at picking berries,” he added, remembering how he had loved to hear compliments from his foster-brothers and the other Elves when he was younger. Gilwen beamed.

“Nana says me and Silivren are too,” she confided. “Do you like picking berries?”

“I do. Back in Imladris, there aren’t nearly so many berry bushes close to home,” Aragorn confided. “I was never allowed to pick as many as I wanted, either.”

Gilwen frowned in confusion. “But you’re the Chieftain.”

Aragorn suppressed laughter. “Not in Imladris, sweetling,” he explained. “In Imladris, in Rivendell, my foster-adar is in charge, not I.”

He was stopped from explaining further by a high-pitched scream. Scooping up Gilwen, he ran toward the source of the noise, and found seven-year-old Silivren up a tree, clinging to a branch. Her basketful of berries was spilled on the ground, and a bear cub was busily eating the spilled berries.

“Gilwen,” Aragorn said urgently. “We are within sight of the village. The men are coming. Run to your adar, sweetling, and don’t let the bear see you.” He set Gilwen down, and she scurried off, a strategically thrown stone frightening the bear away in the other direction.

Aragorn looked up as the men arrived. It was Gilwen and Silivren’s father, Amdir, who had thrown the stone from the sling he carried. He scooped his younger daughter into his arms, and Aragorn helped the trembling Silivren down from the tree. She clung to Aragorn tightly.

“The bear cub is gone, Silivren,” Aragorn assured her. “Come; let us return to the village.” He did not want to wait around for the mother bear to appear, and Amdir seemed to agree, for he hastened his steps. Aragorn half-led, half-carried the trembling Silivren to her family’s lodge, berry basket forgotten until Amdir’s father, old Carangil, returned it.

Carangil was Chieftain Arador’s younger brother, having passed his first century. _Carangil_ was an after-name; what his birth name was, most of the men had forgotten or would not say. The chosen name, _red star,_ came from the wounding that had lost him an eye and bloodied the other, leaving him blind. But what Carangil lacked in sight, he more than made up for in wisdom.

“Nephew,” he said now, his voice cracking somewhat. “Do not seek to hunt the bear cub, or its mother. Live and let live; the bear only wished a meal, and it would be more likely to make a meal of berries and roots than of little girls, no matter what my granddaughters thought.” He clapped a hand on Aragorn’s shoulder. “Firiel and Darwisa are tending the girls,” he added, naming his wife and the village healer, a foreign-born woman who dwelt in Tâduin. “Do not make them tend you as well.”

“Yes, Uncle,” Aragorn sighed, wondering how Carangil had known what he was thinking. He would have liked to rid Tâduin of a nuisance; that was all. “I shall behave myself.”

 _Someday,_ he vowed, _I shall be strong enough to vanquish all the enemies that threaten my people, and not let them be frightened by even bears._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Notes: The Tithenduin is the river that Tâduin’s two rivers join to create, made up by me.  
> Character Tree:  
> Argonui: (unmentioned) Thirteenth Chieftain of the Dunedain. At least two sons (one canon).  
> \- Arador: Fourteenth Chieftain of the Dunedain. Five children (one canon). Died 21 years previously, killed by hill trolls.  
> o Arathorn II – Fifteenth Chieftain of the Dunedain (canon). Married to Gilraen, daughter of Dirhael and Ivorwen. Died 18 years previously, slain by an arrow through the eye.  
>  Aragorn II – 20 years old, now coming into his role as sixteenth Chieftain of the Dunedain, a title he has unwittingly held since two years of age. Lord Dirhael, his grandfather, and “Carangil”, his paternal great-uncle, have been seeing to the general running of Tâduin, aided by Lady Ivorwen.  
> o Arneth – Eldest daughter of Arador (OC). Mother of Halbarad (canon) and Hallatan.  
> o Brennil – Second daughter of Arador (OC). Wife of Taithir (OC), mother of Thalanir (OC).  
> o Glasdes – Third daughter of Arador (OC) Mother of Idhrenor (OC).  
> o Targon – Second son of Arador, child of his old age. 15 years older than his nephew Aragorn II.  
> \- “Carangil”: Younger son of Argonui, grievously wounded and blinded in the same battle that took Arathorn II’s life. A wise mentor to his nephew and great-nephew during their reigns as Chieftain, though he is dead by the time Aragorn II becomes King. Married to Firiel, daughter of a Gondorian noblewoman (though not the same as the Gondorian Princess Firiel).  
> o Amdir – Son of “Carangil” and Firiel.  
>  Silivren – Elder daughter of Amdir, thirteen years younger than Aragorn II.  
>  Gilwen – Younger daughter of Amdir, fifteen years younger than Aragorn II.  
> \- “Darwisa”: Of Southron and Gondorian descent, she was a slave bought and subsequently freed by Firiel’s mother as a child. Raised alongside Firiel, she followed her foster-sister to Tâduin and established herself as the village healer. Her skills are different from Aragorn’s, but she can generally match or outdo him on experience alone; he has much to learn from her.


	2. B2MEM 2014 March 2 - A Midsummer Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the year 2951 of the Third Age, Aragorn’s first Midsummer after returning to his people in the village of Tâduin brings surprises for his kin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Quenya phrases were originally translated by Fiondil for his story POWER: Divine Restraint, which can be found in his “Fiondil’s Tapestry” on Stories of Arda. Therefore, I dedicate this story to him.

_Summer 2951, Tâduin, Arnor_

“The Erulaitalë was one of the Three Prayers that the Kings and Queens of Númenor and their people made to Eru. It was observed in the middle of summer,” Taithir said, in his ‘lecturing’ tone, as his pupils fidgeted.

 

Seated in their neat rows on thin cushions of tanned hide, the boys and girls listened half-attentively, clearly wishing they could be anywhere but here. But amongst the half-grown boys and girls sat one youth twice as tall as they; the young Chieftain, who sat attentively indeed, gaze fixed on his Aunt Brennil’s husband as the Man spoke of Númenor long dead, seeming to drink in the information.

 

“Aragorn,” Taithir said, looking at his newest and eldest pupil.

 

“Yes, Master,” Aragorn said, rising to his feet and bowing respectfully, as though he were addressing Lords Erestor or Glorfindel, the tutors of his childhood. His young cousins didn’t seem to know whether to laugh or not, but Taithir gave Aragorn a pleased nod.

 

“Tell me, Aragorn, what you know of the Erulaitalë, which would have been spoken this Midsummer Day on the Meneltarma of old,” Taithir prompted; an odd look came into Aragorn’s eyes. He turned toward the West unerringly; his hand over his heart, eyes fixed on some distant point, and began not to speak, but to sing.

 

 _“Aira, aira, aira, Heru Eru Iluvala,”_ he began in Quenya, his cousins and uncle sitting dumbstruck. When he finished, _“…ilyë Carmelya laituvar Esselya, Arda ar Lúmelóra Mardissë,”_ and bowed toward the West, none of them were quite sure what he had done, though Taithir at least had an inkling. But an Eagle came; not one of the Great Eagles of legend, she was Manwë’s Servant still, and she circled Aragorn, once, twice, thrice before letting out a screeching cry and soaring toward the West again.

 

An eagle feather drifted into Aragorn’s hand in the wake of her flight. He turned toward Taithir, bowing to his uncle. “Forgive me, Master, for this disruption,” he said uncertainly, and the majesty which had surrounded Aragorn dissolved, leaving the stripling Chieftain revealed for the young man he still was.

 

“You…sang the Erulaitalë, Aragorn,” Taithir said slowly, still off-balanced. “In the ancient mode?”

 

“Forgive me, Master,” Aragorn replied, embarrassed. “You wished to know what I knew, I thought.”

 

Taithir smiled ruefully. “You most certainly have more right than I to know it. Well done; Elrond should be proud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Aira, aira, aira, Heru Eru Iluvala,” - "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty,"  
> “…ilyë Carmelya laituvar Esselya, Arda ar Lúmelóra Mardissë,” - "...all Thy works shall praise Thy Name, on Earth and in the Timeless Halls,"


	3. B2MEM 2014 March 5 - Of Battles and Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taithir tells his pupils of the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, and Aragorn finds near-brothers are just as faithful as blood-brothers. Follows “A Midsummer Lesson”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The italicised text of Taithir's lecture is taken directly from the Silmarillion, and I disclaim its use. I make no money from using it.

 

_“But now in the western battle Fingon and Turgon were assailed by a tide of foes thrice greater than all the force that was left to them. Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, high-captain of Angband, was come; and he drove a dark wedge between the Elvenhosts, surrounding King Fingon, and thrusting Turgon and Hurin aside towards the Fen of Serech._

_Then he turned upon Fingon. That was a grim meeting. At last Fingon stood alone with his guard dead about him; and he fought with Gothmog, until another Balrog came behind and cast a thong of fire about him. Then Gothmog hewed him with his black axe, and a white flame sprang up from the helm of Fingon as it was cloven. Thus fell the High King of the Noldor; and they beat him into the dust with their maces, and his banner, blue and silver, they trod into the mire of his blood.”_

Aragorn listened to his uncle speak, and his brows creased slightly. He could not suppress a shudder when Fingon’s final fate was spoken, and when Taithir concluded the lesson, he remained behind while the young ones ran on ahead.

 

“I would not have done that,” he told Taithir quietly.

 

Taithir smiled grimly. “Would you not, Nephew? Fingon was caught in a final stand. He had no one to aid him. What would you have him do; turn and flee before the Balrogs? It was a fruitless stand. There was naught else he could have done.”

 

Aragorn inclined his head slightly. “At that point, no, Uncle. But perhaps earlier, he could have warned the troops he led not to react to aught the Dark Lord did, even involving their kin. Was it not Gwindor who rashly began the charge when his brother was killed?”

 

“It was,” Taithir conceded, “and mayhap if he had not, the forces would not have been driven apart. But can you fault him for being upset? His only brother, his beloved companion, was slain before his eyes.” Taithir gave his nephew a measured look. “What would you say, Nephew, if your brother was killed before you?”

 

“I have no brother,” Aragorn said, keeping his tone respectful with great restraint.

 

“Have you not?”

 

Aragorn turned at the new voice, and found Halbarad standing there with Hallatan, Idhrenor and Thalanir. “By my count, _gwador dithen,_ you have four,” Halbarad said softly. “Is it not so, my Lord Cousin?”

 

Aragorn smiled weakly. “I did not think of that. Forgive me.”

 

“It is well,” Hallatan said, and their younger cousins nodded.

 

“But if you forget it again, _gwador muin,_ I shall have to tell Adar and Naneth,” Idhrenor said, smirking. His mother, Arathorn’s sister Glasdes, was wed to Gilraen’s middle brother, Herthedir, and so he was Aragorn’s cousin on both sides.  Aragorn snorted.

 

“Uncle Herthedir is guarding the borders of the Shire at present,” Aragorn pointed out.

 

“ _Daeradar_ , then,” Idhrenor suggested. Aragorn winced. Lord Dirhael was certainly not one to cross!

 

“I would be as ill-fated as Fingon!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwador dithen - S. "little (sworn) brother"
> 
> Gwador muin - S. "dear/beloved (sworn) brother"
> 
> Daeradar - S. "Grandfather".


	4. B2MEM 2014 March 4 - Summer Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a brief interlude with Uncle Handoron, father to his cousins Halbarad and Hallatan, Aragorn considers stars, light and hope.

 

The bright, hot summer days were dragging on, and Aragorn found himself taking frequent rests from his work in the fields now. His uncle Handoron, Aunt Arneth’s husband and father to Halbarad and Hallatan, was a skilled wood carver, and he began teaching Aragorn his art. Aragorn watched in fascination as the wooden cup Handoron had already fashioned began taking on a more pleasing shape.

 

Handoron’s knife flaked away at the wood, and slowly a design began to emerge of stars sprinkled over the outside of the cup, carved into the sides. Aragorn frowned, as the carved stars went all the way through the sides of the cup.

 

“You cannot drink out of a cup such as that one, Uncle,” he pointed out, and Handoron chuckled, shaking his head.

 

“Nay, I would think not. It cannot hold water,” he agreed, as he fashioned the last star. “Hand me the wax there, would you, my lad?”

 

Bemused, Aragorn did as he was bid, watching Handoron rub the wax over the wood until it gleamed. Handoron reached into his bag and drew out a small, round candle, pressing it firmly into the bottom of the cup.

 

Aragorn’s face lit with a smile. “Oh, I see! But will the wood not burn?” He had noticed Halbarad and Hallatan had similar candle-cups, though he had not seen them used. It would be useful, he thought – so long as the cups did not catch fire.

 

“Not if caution is taken,” Handoron assured Aragorn. “This is for you. May it be a comfort to you, and give you light when you most need it.” He fitted loops of string to the top of the cup, so Aragorn could hang it beside his bunk, and Aragorn smiled his thanks.

 

The summer nights were short and cool; but if Aragorn had to work through them, learning his new duties, he would have a light to work by.

 

 _A star_ , he thought, _like Gil-Estel, the Star of Hope_. Bidding his uncle good day, he returned to his own lodge and set up the candle. That night, as Anor sank low in the sky, Aragorn greeted the Star of Eärendil, and bowed to his distant longfather, giving thanks for his true light in dark places.

 

 _Yes, Star of Hope,_ he thought. _My grandsire of old. I, too, am Hope for my people._

So he would do his best to be.


	5. B2MEM 2014 March 6 - Summer Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aragorn helps to fight a summer storm.

Thunder crackled above the village of Tâduin, and lightning flashed, as the rain came down in great sheets. The Tithenduin was in flood, water and silt washing up its banks. Aragorn worked hard with the boys and men to defend their village from the onslaught of Lord Ossë’s wrath.

 

As they worked to protect the houses, the women worked to defend the fields, and Aragorn found himself wondering if summer storms would often be this heavy.

 

“Not always,” Idhrenor panted when he asked. “Just sometimes. We must have done something to make Lord Ossë mad.”

 

“Yes, obviously, by accepting this great lout as Chieftain,” Meril put in, bringing them another bucket. She was the daughter of Nessanie, Gilraen’s oldest sister, and she gave her cousin an affectionate grin as she passed him a bucket. Aragorn blushed, much to his dismay, and Meril laughed.

 

“If it was that, we’d have had this storm back in the spring,” Halbarad pointed out. Hallatan snickered, and Aragorn sighed.

 

“Am I really such a terrible Chieftain?” he asked, and the cousins looked abashed.

 

“Not at all,” Halbarad reassured him. “Just young, and not very experienced yet. Forgive us, Brother. We were having a little fun at your expense, is all. It was ill-done, and we are sorry.”

 

“I forgive you,” Aragorn replied. “Be glad I was not truly angry, for the storm of my wrath unbridled is worse than Lord Ossë’s!”

 

The cousins shuddered to think of that, although they rather doubted it inside. Outside, the rain lashed down, and everyone continued to fight the battle to save the village.


	6. B2MEM 2014 March 7 - Swimming in the Tithenduin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While enjoying respite from the summer heat with his cousins, Aragorn watches a Tâduin tradition in progress, and vaguely recalls experiencing it for himself.
> 
> A/N: For B2MEM 2014 Summer – "There the air was cool and there wayfarers in summer would rest and drink of the cold water."

 The banks of the Tithenduin were dry once again, and a swimming hole fed by the river provided a cool respite from the heat. Aragorn relaxed in the water with his cousins, watching as  they splashed and dove. “I remember learning to swim when I was about four, in just such a pool in Imladris,” he remarked, but Halbarad shook his head.

 

“Oh, no, Little Brother. You learned to swim before that, right here in Tâduin. As soon as you first began to walk alone, my father put you in the water and held you there as you splashed about, learning to strike out and kick hard. You swam well before you were two years old, though I daresay you had to re-learn after being out of practice for a time.”

 

“That explains why I learned so quickly, I suppose,” Aragorn said with a faint blush. Halbarad and Hallatan nodded.

 

Just then, Amdir’s wife, Fanuilos came down to the river with her little son Curunthor strapped to a board on her back. She set the board down and undid the straps, setting Curunthor on his feet, and brought him to the water. As Fanuilos began teaching him to swim, Aragorn watched, fascinated.

 

If he closed his eyes and thought hard, the young Chieftain vaguely felt a memory stir of his uncle Handoron’s strong grip and the swift moving waters, very long ago. He was Aragorn, not Estel only; Aragorn’s memories should be his to keep.

 

And so they were.


	7. B2MEM 2014 March 8 - A Little Night Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the last night of summer, Aragorn stays up late to read a very special book, and in the morning, he gets a surprise.

"Each year at summer’s end I went to find them for her, In a wide pool, deep and clear…"

 

Aragorn lay facedown on his bunk, paging through the small book by candlelight. He had found it in an oilskin pouch hanging above his bed not long after arriving in Taduin in the spring, but only recently had he realised just who the book had belonged to.

To be fair, he had not perused it every night, only when the time was convenient. But as the writer went on to tell a story of gathering lilies in the moonlight for Dirhael's youngest daughter, first to please her childlike wants, then to court the woman she had become, he realised whose hand had penned these words, and on this, the last night of summer, he sent a silent prayer that somewhere, his adar did not mind this invasion of his privacy.

He longed to know all he could about his parents, after all, and this was a firsthand account of their courtship.

The tale of the water lilies occupied him well into the night, and it was nearly dawn before he fell asleep at last. Why had his mother never  told him this tale?

His myriad questions would have to wait - or mayhap go unanswered. He woke a few hours after the dawning, feeling himself in the Hall of Fire, Lindir's harp being strummed nearby...

Wait, that could not be. He shot up in bed and nearly smacked his head on the top of the bunk, peering out to see a discomfited Elf picking himself up off the floor.

"That is a fine way to greet your brother, Estel!"

"Elladan!"

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are very much appreciated!


End file.
